


The Genes Don't Make the Man

by F-117 Nighthawk (F117_Nighthawk)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Galra Keith (Voltron), M/M, Missing Scene, Panic Attacks, can that be cannonized, keith is a cat and you cannot convince me otherwise, klangst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-29
Updated: 2017-01-29
Packaged: 2018-09-20 13:59:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9494633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/F117_Nighthawk/pseuds/F-117%20Nighthawk
Summary: Keith's part Galra. He doesn't really take it well, but luckily Lance is there to calm him down.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I said my next fic was gonna be the long-ass Ninjago one in my google drive or more of the MCU series floating around and that it wasn't gonna happen until after the AP tests. Apparently I lied and it's all [Stephatnam's](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stephatnam/profile) fault because i ended up watching all of Voltron in 48 hours and then this happened instead of homework.

Keith stumbled out of the cryopod expecting nobody. He expected to fall out onto the cold, hard, unforgiving metal of the Castle’s medical bay, legs unable to hold his weight. He expected to collapse with nothing for company but the ground, unable to walk until the cryo-exhaustion wore off, nothing to talk to except the castle systems. He expected to have to crawl to a table just to stand up, and then crawl his stupid, injured, exhausted, Galra ass to his room. He expected to be able to send nothing more than a fleeting, begging glance at Lance’s door, at Shiro’s, before being kicked out with nothing but his dagger. That was what he deserved, anyway. 

Instead of the best case scenario his cryo addled brain had come up with, he collapsed against something warm and solid, which then encircled him and held his weight, preventing him from falling onto the floor. “Hey, babe,” a voice said from somewhere above him.

Keith pried open frozen eyes. The castle systems would not have called him ‘babe’. He blinked and moved a hand to scrub at the crust around his eyes as the world slowly shifted into focus. His face was smushed against someone’s shoulder; there were arms around him, covered in a brown-green jacket, and a chin in his hair. It took a surprisingly long time for Keith to process who was holding him. “Lance,” he whispered, eyes widening in panic as he pulled away, but he was still too weak from the pod to hold his own weight.

“Whoa, hey, hey, Keith, you’re exhausted, come on.” Lance caught him before he could collapse on the floor, but Keith kept trying to struggle out of his grip. “Honey, what’s wrong?”

“Why are you here?” Keith said. It came out like a sob of pain. “You shouldn’t be here.”

Lance looked down at Keith with a confused look. “Why wouldn’t I be? You got hurt, you were in the cryopod, and as your boyfriend I am the perfect person to catch you when you wake up. So here I am.” He released the still-struggling Keith.

Keith was panicking internally and struggling not to show it, sure that Lance was here to rub everything in his face, to tell him he wasn’t worthy, to flick him like a fruit fly off the ship, out of his arms and love.  _ “You shouldn’t be here,” _ he insisted, desperate for a way to get Lance away from him before the inevitable tirade came crashing down like a waterfall. He scrambled back and leaned against a cryopod for support, hyperventilating, spots swimming in his vision from either lack of oxygen or cryo.

“Keith, come on, calm down. I need you to calm down, okay? Here, breathe with me,” Lance said, crouching down so he was level with where Keith had slid down the pod, and reached for the red paladin’s hand.

“Don’t touch me!” Keith sobbed, yanking his hand away. He curled in on himself, covering his ears with his hands so he couldn’t hear Lance yelling at him, squeezing his eyes shut so he couldn’t see his expression. He focused on breathing, like Shiro had taught him the first time the other had seen him like this. The thought of Shiro sent a fresh wave of panic through him, the image behind his eyes transforming from space to his brother joining his boyfriend in ridicule and scorn. He wrenched his thoughts away, attempting to focus on anything but the blue paladin he could sense on the floor next to him.

“Keith. Keithy baby, calm down, please. You’re safe in the med bay on the castle.”

“I’m not having a flashback!” Keith snapped, anger working its way through the panic, “You don’t need to sit there and pretend to care!”

He could feel Lance lean away from him. Keith was disgusted with himself, with the Galra blood that he now knew was coursing through him, with the abilities and goddamn sixth sense it gave him for others presences. 

He felt Scarlet pulling at his mind.  _ Calm down, cub, _ she told him,  _ he does not mean you harm. _

There was more communication going on, but he couldn’t hear it. He felt it was likely Scarlet was communicating with someone else, deciding that he wasn’t worth her time, that she would throw him to the birds just like so many others had done. His life was nothing but an endless cycle of abandonment; even his lion was going to leave him here.

_ STOP, _ Scarlet yelled,  _ I will not abandon you, cub. Did I not come for you when you were in trouble? I will continue to help you for the rest of your life. I am TRYING to help you right now, but you continue to wallow in doubt. Now stop this nonsense and listen to Lance. _

Keith heard a small gasp from Lance, then felt him move closer. “Keith. Is what Azul just told me what you’re thinking about?”

Keith tensed, holding his breath. 

“Keith. Look at me.”

Keith refused to move, to even take a breath.

“Baby, come on, look at me. You’re turning red.”

_ Listen. To. Him, _ came Scarlet’s angry thoughts.

Keith relented and opened his eyes, turning slightly to face Lance, but he didn’t look directly at him. “Say what you’re going to say,” he said, dejected and sad, “but if it’s just empty platitudes before you kick me out I don’t want to hear it.”

Lance moved like he was going to hug Keith, but thought better of it. “Keith, no one is going to kick you out.”

“What about Allura? She has every reason to hate me, every reason to throw me off her ship, to disconnect me from Scarlet and kick me off the team.”

“Keith, she doesn’t have the right or ability to do any of that. Scarlet has final say on who her paladin is, and she’s made it pretty clear that she wants you. Allura can’t control any of that. She doesn’t even hate you. She’s just, surprised. She has to come to terms with the fact that not every Galra,” Keith flinched away from Lance when he said the word, “is evil. It might take her a bit, but I know she’ll come around. You’re not even the sole reason for that. Kolivan and the Blade have more to do with that than you.”

Keith looked at the ground between his legs, at the cold hard unforgiving metal he should have stumbled into instead of Lance. 

“What about everyone else,” he mumbled, “They all have so many reasons to hate the Galra, and here I am.”

“You’re not a Galra, Keith.”

Keith snapped his head up, looking at Lance with a wild panic and terror in his eyes. A deranged laugh bubbled out of his mouth. “Not a Galra? Lance, you know  _ exactly _ what Kolivan said. The dagger only responded to me because I’m a Galra. There’s no other explanation for it.  _ I am a fucking Galra, Lance.” _

“You have Galra  _ genes. _ That doesn’t mean you are one of them. The Galra we’re fighting want nothing more than bloodshed and power. I know you better than anyone else in this castle, and you’re not like that. You care about people, you’re willing to help and protect those who cannot protect themselves. That instinct of yours may be helped by Galra genes, but you don’t use it to kill without qualms, you use it to protect us.”

Keith opened his mouth to protest the last bit but was cut off by Lance placing a finger to his lips, shushing him. “Nope, I know what you’re going to say: ‘But I kill things, I’ve used that instinct to fight and kill since I was six, I go off in a berserker rage whenever one of you gets hurt because I’m Galra.’ And I’m telling you that  _ that’s not the same. _ You use your anger to protect us, you use your heightened senses to defend others. How many times have you saved one of us because you sensed an attack coming, sensed an opening, felt something off?  _ How many times have those heightened senses saved me?” _

“More times than I can count,” Keith admitted.

“See? You’re still you, Keith. Discovering that your genetics aren’t exactly like ours doesn’t change anything. All it does is explain why your senses are so good. You’re still Keith, the Red Paladin of Voltron, Scarlet’s pilot, the best damn pilot in this corner of the universe, our friend, part of our family. You’re still the love of my life, still my mullet-headed, amazing, drop-dead-gorgeous boyfriend, nothing is going to change that.”

Lance had shifted closer to Keith during his little speech, so that he was kneeling right next to him. Keith looked up through his bangs, tears in his eyes, and threw himself at Lance, wrapping his arms around his waist and burying his face in his shoulder again. He finally let all the emotion out, sobbing into Lance’s shoulder. Lance pulled him close and rubbed soothing circles on his back, hugging tight like he wanted to pull Keith into him and never let him go. 

Keith felt Scarlet surrounding him with her presence, a comforting and warm weight in addition to Lance.  _ See, now that was not so hard.  _ He smiled at the lion’s I-told-you-so tone.

_ Thanks, Scarlet, for whatever you did. _

The lion purred, a contented “you’re welcome”, before she retracted herself back.

“You know what else it might explain?” Lance said.

“What,” Keith deadpanned, expecting a joke from his boyfriend’s tone of voice.

“Why you act like a cat when you’re sleepy.”

Keith snorted, blowing snot all over Lance’s shoulder.

“I’m being serious! On movie night and stuff, when we’re watching some boring Altean documentary you practically curl up in my lap. And you  _ purr.” _ Lance stopped, eyes wide. “And then when we’re fighting you move like you’re _ hunting, _ and you have a sword, two swords, and they’re sharper than claws, and you hate wet hair, and enclosed spaces, and you have perfect night vision, and you get up at o-ass-hundred in the morning, and  _ dios mio, Keith, you are a cat.” _

Keith burst into full blown laughter at Lance’s realization, throwing his head back and gasping for air. Lance smiled at him, chuckling along, before pulling Keith back to his chest when they calmed down. Keith wiped tears from his eyes and wrapped himself around Lance again. “I love you,” he murmured into Lance’s ear, “Thank you.”

Lance turned his head and captured him in a quick kiss. “Love you too, Keith.”

They sat on the floor for a while, curled into an embrace, simply enjoying the silence. Eventually, Keith pulled away and asked, “Where is everyone else?”

Lance blinked, having forgotten that anyone but Keith existed. “I sent Shiro to bed, he was going to fall asleep on his feet. He wanted to wait up for you, but I convinced him that sleep was important and that I could take care of you. Pidge and Hunk have been in and out, working on plans for something. I think they went to bed, though,” he paused and looked away. “I haven’t seen Coran or Allura since Shiro told us what happened.”

Keith looked down at the floor again, eyes tight with regret. “I shouldn’t have told him to tell you.”

“Hey,” Lance said, talking Keith’s chin and tilting his face to look at him, “It’s alright. They just need a little time, is all. Can we get off the floor now? I still need to scan your shoulder.”

Keith smiled, standing up and grabbing Lance’s hand. “Alright.”


End file.
